Balance of Power
by raebanana
Summary: YGO x HP crossover. Deathly Hallows spoiler. To regain the other half of his soul, George Weasley will do anything, even seek out an ancient, dangerous magic. But something must be given in exchange... and not everyone wants George to be whole again...
1. Prologue

Spoiler Warning!! Turn back now if you haven't finished Deathly Hallows. I mean it!!!

If I owned Harry Potter, Fred Weasley would not be dead and this fanfic would not exist. If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura would be pharaoh. So, obviously…

Okay… after sobbing my heart out over Fred (I hate you, JKR.), the realization was come to that, at the very least, Fred's dying gives me a great launching pad for the HP x YGO crossover I've wanted to write. (Yes, it's a crossover, but it makes sense. If you don't like it, kindly go play in traffic) I realize that no good can really come of Weasley twin death, but I'm trying to be optimistic, and since George is never really mentioned after Fred's death… insert maniacal laughter here. X3

Yes, this is technically a YGO fic… I have a hell of a lot of Domino City citizens showing up, and only a couple of wizards. Hence its placement.

Also, just as a warning, there will probably be some non-graphic twincest, because it is cute and it works in the context of this fic. Again, no like, traffic.

So, yeah… really, I was going to write this before, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work. Now it does.

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_The sounds from the Great Hall were uproarious. Triumphant cheering filled the ground level of the school, echoing throughout the main hallway. The noise reached even into one of the smaller classrooms towards the back of the school, where George Weasley currently sat, his twin brother's head in his lap and his eyes filled with tears. _

_Slowly, George looked down at his twin, down at the face that had always grinned at him, down at the arms that would always drape over his shoulders, the legs that would always run with him to avoid punishment for some stupid prank…_

_Never again. _

_Because Fred's face was empty. His arms and legs were cold and stiff._

_Fred was gone. Lost. Passed on. _

_Dead._

_George had known the instant it happened. He felt a pain in his chest, such an intense, brutalizing agony, he thought his heart had been ripped out. And then he knew. And the screaming started, terrified, anguished, tortured screams, a wordless, unending sound of absolute despair. Screams that George hadn't realized were coming from his own throat. _

_He had run to Fred, screaming, sobbing, pleading with whatever gods would listen to please undo it, to let it be a bad dream, to make his beloved brother wake up, to make it not real._

_But it was real. _

_Fred didn't wake up, didn't open his eyes and grin in that way that made George's heart leap, didn't laugh and say it was all a joke. _

_He couldn't._

_Fred was dead. _

_George was quiet now, silently crying in the empty classroom that he had brought Fred's body to. The other victims of the war lay in the Great Hall, some George's closest friends, but he had left them all where they lay. Only Fred mattered. _

_His mother had tried to stop him, but she saw the emptiness in George's eyes, and permitted him to take his fallen twin somewhere private, somewhere away from all the noise and the triumph. _

_The triumph didn't matter. Who cared if Voldemort had been finally vanquished? None of it mattered._

_Fred was dead. _

_They were supposed to stay together. Hadn't they promised?_

_The words played on an endless loop._

_Fred was dead. Fred was dead. Fred was dead. Fred was dead. _

_Fredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdeadfredwasdead…_

"_No." _

_The word spilled from George's lips, barely a whisper. So quiet he wasn't sure he'd spoken aloud. _

"_No."_

_Louder, stronger now. George looked up, eyes still pained and glistening, but with a spark of determination._

"_No. I refuse to accept this. I cannot accept this." _

_Yes, they'd promised. And if Fred couldn't do anything to keep it, then George would. _

_He looked down at his twin again, so peaceful looking. George gently brushed a strand of brilliant red hair out of Fred's face. _

"_I'll find a way."_

_He had to. He couldn't live without the other half of his soul._

"_I will never stop searching."_

_It was impossible to bring someone back from the dead. Everyone in the wizarding world knew that. But there were other types of magic in the world… there had to be something. There had to be. _

"_I will find a way to bring you back to me."_

_It was impossible to bring someone back from the dead. _

_But the Weasley twins had always defied impossible. _

"_No matter how long it takes__."_

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R&R, yo. More to come soon.


	2. Searching

Yo… Rae here. Decided to update again quickly. Not much to say at the moment, so… Chapter 2!

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It had been three months since the Battle of Hogwarts… three months since Fred had died. Three months since George had lost the other half of himself.

Two months, twenty-one days since the funeral. A quiet, solemn affair behind the Burrow, where Fred now lay, buried beneath the oak he and George had always loved to climb. The whole event had passed in a haze of tears. And George hadn't moved, his face as hard as the granite headstone that bore his twin's name.

Other things had happened. Tonks and Lupin were buried side by side, their infant son howling through the whole ceremony. Kingsley Shacklebolt was made Minister of Magic for good, and was working to create a Ministry of fairness and equality. Minerva McGonagall was now Headmistress of Hogwarts. The damage to the school was being repaired, and a memorial stone was erected in the front lawn, inscribed with the names of all those who had fallen to protect the wizarding world.

But George didn't care.

In the three months that had passed, George had worked endlessly, reading, searching, looking for anything that could bring Fred back. Countless trips to the Hogwarts library. Days on end spent awake, flipping pages, until his body finally collapsed in exhaustion, head resting on his desk. Walking to the nearby village (he didn't have the strength to Apparate anymore), to the small library, sitting at a computer until closing, returning at dawn the next day.

His family was worried, but didn't interfere. They figured that George would just have to realize when it was time to stop searching, as nothing they said to him seemed to matter.

So George searched, everything, anything, something that could help him.

Nothing. For three months, no matter how hard George looked, not a glimmer of hope. Thousands of myths, fables, stories, legends, spells, but nothing even remotely close to a solution.

Then George saw the eye.

It was just a reference in an old Egyptology text, a summary of the Eye of Horus, and a vague, fleeting reference to something called the Millennium Items, items with the power to control fate. And with that reference, a drawing of an eye, an eye on an upside down pyramid.

George didn't know why he searched for that eye, but he did. And the most common result were news articles. Articles about some card game champion in Japan, an odd looking kid, but with the strangest necklace, an inverted pyramid…

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Molly Weasley sighed, and poured herself a cup of tea. This depression wasn't healthy for her. True, there were many things she had to be grateful for. Her surviving family was thriving, and she was now grandmother to a beautiful baby girl, Victoire Weasley, daughter of her oldest son Bill and his wife Fleur. Her husband Arthur was back at work, assisting Kingsley Shacklebolt in reorganizing the Ministry. Charlie was back in Romania, back with his dragons. Percy was engaged to his sweetheart, Penelope Clearwater. Ron was happily with Hermione, although the two still argued constantly. And Ginny and Harry had been reconciled, spending the summer comfortably together before Ginny's last year at Hogwarts.

But Fred was dead. And George was dying.

Oh, he'd never admit it. But her son, her remaining twin, was slowly wasting away, dying of grief, clinging to an idea that could never, never work.

Not that she didn't want it to work. She would have given anything to hear her sons finish each others sentences again. But Molly Weasley was a realist. And impossible is impossible.

But George thought otherwise, which was why he didn't sleep, didn't eat, disappeared for hours without a word to anyone, stared with blank eyes at any who would try and console him. And Molly couldn't bring it upon herself to try and stop him, foolish though she knew it was, even though she was watching her own son waste away before her eyes…

The door flew open. Molly jumped, spilling tea down her front. There, in the doorway, stood George, eyes no longer blank, but burning with a fire Molly had never seen there before.

"George…? George, honey, what's wrong?" Molly trembled, fear that something else had hit her family making her blood freeze.

George blinked and stared at his mother, unmoving, hand bone white around the piece of paper clenched in his fist.

"George?" 

"Mum… I'm going to Japan."

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Yeah… sorry it's short, but this was the one part that I really didn't want to write. It'll pick up the pace soon. 3

R&R, desu.


	3. Shadow Meeting

Own neither Yugioh nor Harry Potter. Wish I did, though…

Got bored of playing Freecell, decided to update again. Two in one night, I'm on a roll. Or maybe a cracker. X3

So, yeah… Poor Georgie, spending all his time researching… maybe his last name should be Granger… And yes, that was Yugi-kun's Millennium Puzzle, for those who didn't get it. 3

Sorry, but I suck at writing stuff like the above. I usually end up rambling, so I'm just gonna start the fic back up.

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"Mum, I'm going to Japan." George said, eyes never leaving his mother's face.

Molly shook her head slowly, as if in disbelief. "J-J-Japan, Georgie? But… the joke shop… you can't just leave… why Japan? You don't even know Japanese…"

George clenched the paper in his fist even tighter. "The shop'll be fine. And I know Hermione has a language charm somewhere."

"But WHY are you going in the first place?" Molly knew the answer, deep inside, but that couldn't be the reason, no, of course not. Silly thing to think. But George didn't answer, and looked at the ground. "No… You're still trying to bring him back? You are, aren't you? George, it's impossible."

"No!" George's eyes filled with tears. "No. It's not impossible. There's a way, Mum, there has to be." There had to be, or Fred wouldn't have gone. He wouldn't have left George alone with no way to be with him.

Molly gripped the chair. The world had gone out of balance… "No spell can reawaken the dead, Georgie."

"Maybe not wizard magic, but that's not all there is! There's more than that, and I think I've found something…" There was a plea in George's voice, a near whimper that made his mother's heart break. "It's not impossible…"

"He's dead, George! I know it's painful, and I know you don't want it to be true, but he's dead! I want him back too, but you can't do it; he's gone and he's not coming back. Fred wouldn't want you to grieve your whole life…" She couldn't lose George too…

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!" George roared, eyes filled again with that same fire. "He promised me, Mum, he promised. He said he'd never leave me, he didn't want to go, a wall fell on him, he had no choice!" Tears falling fast now. "He's my twin, Mum, he's part of me, and if there's even the slightest hope that I can save him, then I will! I have to, I have to, I… I…."

George sank to his knees, sobbing. There was a way, wasn't there? Fred wouldn't have gone away, wouldn't have left him like this otherwise. Now it was just like Hide-and-Seek, just a game… George just had to find him.

A pair of arms wrapped around George, warm and inviting, a faint scent of cinnamon about them. His mother's arms. Her voice, soft and kind. "Go then. He means that much to you, so go. I… if anyone can do it, Georgie, it'll be you. So go. Go and find him. Bring him home." George nodded against her cheek, tears still flowing, mixing with hers.

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The flight from London to Domino was uneventful. George had used some of the savings from his, no, _their_ shop to buy the ticket. He'd packed his few important belongings, clothes, and both his and Fred's wands. He'd said goodbye to his parents, siblings, friends. And he had left.

None of them really understood. None of them were a twin, none of them had half of their soul belong to someone else. And hadn't he and Fred always been so much closer than even than regular twins? Normal twins didn't read each other's thoughts, didn't spend every moment together, didn't share dreams.

George slept on the plane. He had been so tired lately, but he hadn't allowed himself to rest, not until he had found something. And now that he had something to cling to, a shred of hope, George slept.

In Domino City, however, sleep is not found often, especially not for bearers of Millennium Items. The darkness calls to them, pulls and tugs at their blood. Shadows are restless, and so too are those with the power to control them.

In a dark room at a nightclub, the thumping of techno music loud from down the hallway, two of these bearers met. One lay sprawling on a couch, constantly spinning a long golden stick in both hands, blond hair falling into lavender eyes, which watched the movements of the other, who paced back and forth, moonlight glinting off of bone white hair.

"You know, your legs are going to get tired if you keep walking like that." The man on the couch propped his head on a hand and grinned.

His counterpart snorted and turned. "Not that you would really know, lazy fool."

"What's got you so worked up, anyways? You're supposed to be relaxed, idiot."

"And you're supposed to be locked away, _Mariku_." The blond's name rolled off his tongue like an insult. "Or have you forgotten?"

Mariku laughed, an oddly musical sound. "Oh no, I remember. And I also recall that it was you who helped Malik convince the Pharaoh to let me return. So, technically, it's your fault." The other man didn't grace that with a reply. Mariku stretched and ran a tanned hand through his hair. "What has you so worried, anyways? It isn't like you to be this thoughtful and moody."

"Oh yes, because you've always been the thoughtful one." The man gripped the pendant around his neck and scowled. "A lot of things have been going wrong lately. Ryou's still been having those same nightmares, and-"

Mariku raised an eyebrow. "The one about the castle?"

"Yes… he's been having it almost every night… Ryou's always been a bit on the psychic side. I'd ask your sister, but Malik said that the Necklace hasn't worked very well for her recently. And _she_ hasn't been helping matters much either…"

"Who, Ishizu?"

"No."

The blond knew better than to inquire further. It was hard enough getting the silver-haired teen to talk to him about his problems at all. Hell, it was hard getting him to admit that he HAD problems. "Alright, fine. Keep your secrets then. But… Bakura?"

The other man paused, one hand on the doorknob. "Yes, Mariku?"

"Whatever you're getting yourself into, make sure it's something you can get _out_ of."

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Yeah, a bit of OOC-ness on Mariku's (Yami Malik for those not paying attention) part, but he's more fun to write when he's mellowed out a bit. Don't worry though, psycho Mariku will most definitely be making an appearance…

All right, that's it for now! R&R, kthxbai. 3


	4. Chase

If I owned Yugioh or Harry Potter, I wouldn't be on now would I?

Well, howdy. Time for my nightly update… just a little something to distract me from the mummy in my closet. (Actually, it's a life sized mummy doll for my Thief King Bakura costume, but…)

Now, Protector of the Nameless asked about when this fic takes place in the Yugioh realm, which made me realize that I should probably put up a bit of back story, as my timeline doesn't quite follow the show. ; Artistic liberties.

The story takes place after the Pharaoh's Memories/ Dawn of the Duel/ Ancient Egypt arc. But, in my psychotic little world, the Millennium Items didn't get tossed into a void; Yugi has the Puzzle, Ryou has the Ring and the Eye, Ishizu has the Necklace, Malik has the Rod, and Shadi has the Key. Yes, I know I'm forgetting one… XP

As for the dark halves, all of the yamis have actual bodies (because it's more fun to write that way… it'll get explained later HOW they have them.).

Yami lives with Yugi and Grandpa, has his memories, and works in the Game Shop. I like to think that he really would stay with Yugi, and not just abandon him. Really though, Yami doesn't show up that often. It's not that I don't like him, but he's too much of a do-gooder, and I want some other characters to have some spotlight.

Now, the other two have a more complicated history, and I KNOW that I'm way off the actual plot here, but it's FANFICTION. So there. Okay… I quite fancy them, but if I didn't, I wouldn't be writing this.

Mariku (Yami Malik) is from Ancient Egypt in my twisted mind, got locked away in the Rod (more on that in later chapters), and got woken up by Malik's pain and anger. Not being able to remember anything, Mariku goes berserk (hence Battle City). Afterwards, he kind of mellows out a bit, and is allowed to come back, after much begging on Malik's part.

Bakura… okay, basically with Bakura, he's not really evil. Yes, he was after the Millennium Items, but really, that was Zorc. So it's Zorc that gets destroyed at the end and Bakura stays with the Ring, which Ryou kept… Bakura's not evil, just standoffish, I guess.

Sorry for the rambling, but since I changed things up a bit, I didn't want my dear readers ( 3) to get too confused. Anything I left out will get explained in later chapters.

Also, I apologize for my short chapters so far. One twin is harder to write than two, especially when the twin is emo. Hopefully, as things pick up the pace, the chapters won't be so damnably miniscule.

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In all honesty, coming to Domino City might not have been such a brilliant idea after all. George didn't even know where this card game champion with the odd hair, this Yugi kid, lived. The streets were empty. And now it was night, and storm clouds were covering the sky.

Why HAD he come in the first place? It felt as though he was drawn to this city, drawn by the Eye of Horus on the Puzzle around the King of Game's neck. Was he here to find Fred? Or had Fred died so that George, desperate, would come to this city, bringing him back merely a pretense for some darker, more sinister motive…?

It was starting to rain. George pulled his coat tighter, not that it did much good. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered, except for Fred. He had to find Fred.

But he was so cold, and tired. And he had no idea where he was, lost in a city of darkness. He was miserable. And, for the first time in his life, George felt really, truly alone.

Something shattered behind him. George pulled out his wand, spun around. Blue eyes widened in shock. The shadows…

The shadows were moving.

George almost laughed.

Shadows weren't supposed to move, weren't supposed to crawl like that, weren't supposed to make noises…

Shadows weren't supposed to have fangs…

But they did. And the shadows, creatures, whatever they were, were coming closer, snarling and growling, baring those hideously pointed teeth.

A voice. A memory or an echo, George didn't know. But a voice nonetheless.

"_George… RUN!"_

So George ran.

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"Bakura."

Bakura knew who was speaking without turning around. Such a soft, innocent voice. His hikari's voice. "Yes, Ryou, what is it?" A little harsher than he'd meant, but Ryou'd forgive him. He always did.

"You have to help them." He could hear the tears on the younger boy's voice, an edge of pain not usually there. Bakura turned. Ryou was shaking, and so much paler than usual, almost as white as his hair. He was crying, tears falling from chocolate eyes, eyes fixed upon his yami's crimson ones. "Please, 'Kura…."

Bakura studied his light's face. He'd never really understood Ryou's particular gift very well, his ability to sense other people's emotions. Bakura wasn't even sure how far Ryou's powers could reach, but whoever he felt, they must have been in serious pain to make Ryou look that way.

"Where are they?" Bakura questioned, listened as Ryou gave directions. Yes, he'd help these unknown sufferers, if only to spare his hikari from that same pain.

He owed Ryou that much.

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George was trapped.

He didn't know this town, of course. It was dark, besides, and he had no idea where he was going. And so he had run right down a dead end alleyway.

And the shadows were closing in.

He could see their glowing eyes, could almost feel their clawed hands grab him. They were so close, now. And they meant nothing but malice, he was sure. They were going to kill him.

At least maybe he could see Fred again…

"Begone, creatures." A harsh voice, and a flash of light, nearly blinding. The shadows dissolved, afraid of such a burning brightness.

The light dimmed to a soft glow, surrounding the man who had spoken, reflecting of off silvery hair, illuminating crimson eyes. The man's hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his long black jacket, a look of mingled annoyance and concern on his pale face. "You alright?"

George nodded. "You… you saved me…" he whispered, trying to find the source of the light. Funny… it seemed to be coming from the pendant the stranger was wearing.

"Actually," the stranger replied in a bored tone, "the shadows weren't touching you. They were trying, but something was preventing it. Why?" But George had noticed the symbol on the man's necklace, an eye glinting in the middle of the golden ring…

The world blurred at the edges. "Fred…" George murmured, as unconsciousness claimed him.

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Bakura watched as the red-haired teen slumped over. Odd, he thought. Ryou had said there were two of them. Must have been the intensity of the kid's pain, throwing him off. Even Bakura, decidedly NOT an empath, could feel it. The boy had suffered a loss, a great one. Someone he wasn't supposed to be without. And there was something else, too…

Something in the shadows moved. Bakura's right hand reached for the dagger hanging at his side. If those monsters attacked again…

But what stepped out of the darkness behind the sleeping boy was not a monster. It was, as far as Bakura could tell, a ghost. At least, some sort of transparent spirit type thing, most presumably a ghost. A ghost that looked remarkably similar to the figure on the ground.

The ghost stared at Bakura for a moment, then seemed to shrug and knelt down next to his living mirror image. The ghost's hand drifted over the teen's face, trying to brush aside a lock of hair. Another glance backwards at Bakura, as if to discern whether or not the white haired yami was a threat.

"You do realize that I can see you, right?" Said yami asked. The ghost cocked an eyebrow, looked to the side a couple of times, and pointed to himself. "Yes, you. Are you a ghost?"

The transparent figure shook its head slowly and looked back down, watching the slumbering teen's chest rise and fall. Bakura made a small noise of contempt. "A shade. I should have realized. Refusing to pass on or become bound to the living realm. Indecisive. And I suppose you stopped the shadows from attacking?" The spirit nodded. "The boy means something to you." Another nod, accompanied by an annoyed look, as if Bakura were pointing out something obvious.

Bakura frowned. "I understand that he's important to you… but who, exactly, are _you_?"

The shade paused, unsure how to answer. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he responded.

The voice was quiet, and all that was said were two short words. Those words, however, held a world of emotion, and the promise of a thousand hopes.

"…I'm Fred."

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Mwhaha! Cliff hangers are a bitch. I guess you'll just have to review if you want more! 3


	5. Storm

Fan. As in, I don't own these. They're my FANdoms. XP 

Hola, amigos (that's about all the Spanish I know, apart from 'Yo quero Taco Bell,' which I don't, really)! Just got off work, and am sitting in front of Seto (my laptop), eating Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream and attempting to download the Time Warp. I love life. Still haven't finished the mummy, though…

Wanted to put in a mention about Anime Festival Orlando (AFO) next weekend. If anybody reading this is going (highly unlikely, but you never know…), Friday I shall be Howl from Howl's Moving Castle (woot for easy costumes) and Saturday/Sunday I shall be Thief King Bakura, even though the costume is five layers. In August. With binding. I'm going to die.

Actually, a couple of friends and I are doing a group Yu-Gi-Oh! Cosplay. I'm Bakura, and we have a Malik, Mariku, and Ryou. Woot. And next year, Mariku and I are going to be the Weasley twins. I shall have wings and a halo. XP;

Oh, and a note on the fic. Yes, Fred is back. Sort of. I mean, he's still kind of, y'know, dead, but he's around.

Which brings me to another point. After much consideration (or not), I have decided that Fred is the only person who died in Deathly Hollows who gets to come back, even as a ghost. Lupin and Tonks would have been okay with dying, if they were together (I think), and the only person that they mentioned who died was Colin Creevy (who I am most certainly NOT writing a fanfic about); besides, I think Fred is the only one with a strong enough attachment to the world of the living to stay behind.

And another point… okay, I will admit to having a couple of original characters in this fic. Don't hate me!! Eep! Believe me, I hate Mary Sues as much as anyone. And my OCs don't end up with anyone. But… they are kind of crucial to the plot. So… just give 'em a chance, kay?

So… again, hopefully as the story progresses the chapters will get longer, but I can't make any promises.

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"I'm Fred."

The spirit's words fell like stones into the darkness.

Bakura cocked an eyebrow. "Okay… you're Fred. And that means exactly what to me? Fuck," the yami added in an undertone, "I hate when Ryou does this to me… you can't touch him, by the way." Fred looked up in surprise. He'd been trying to brush George's hair out of his face again. "You're a spirit, fool. You're intangible."

Surprise changed to annoyance. "How is it that you can see me, then? Seeing as how I'm _intangible _and all." The spirit crossed his arms and leaned against nothingness.

The yami's eyes narrowed. "Don't get snippy, punk. I could decide not to help after all."

"But…"

"But?" Ye gods, Bakura hated spirits. Especially those who didn't appreciate a helping hand. And this twerp was more preoccupied with arguing than helping his… his… whatever relationship the kid on the ground was to him.

"But what if those shadows come back?" Fred finished, meeting the silver-haired thief's gaze.

Bakura snorted. "Finally worrying then, neh?" Fred shot a glance at his sleeping counterpart, but didn't say anything. "…Twins?"

Fred blinked. "What?"

"You're his twin, aren't you." More of a statement than a question. The spirit paused. Another glance down, and a nod. "How…?"

"A giant bloody rock fell on my head." If he'd been alive, he'd have made some sort of joke about that, but since dying, Fred had felt distinctly unfunny. Or maybe it was the fact that his twin was lying unconscious at his feet. Something to that effect. "How is it that you can see me, anyways?"

"I've always been able to see ghosts… or spirits, in your case. And interesting though this conversation may be, I really don't think it's a great idea to stand here in the middle of a thunderstorm, especially not when those monsters could come back. Besides," Bakura added, pushing his wet hair out of his equally wet face, "I'm _drenched_."

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He didn't know what exactly drove him to visit her on this particular night, but Rae's shop was one of the few places Mariku really liked. It was dark and mysterious, and besides that, it smelled really good, like incense. And Rae usually had cookies sitting on the counter in the front room where all of the goods were. So, bored and not wanting to listen to his sister rant, that's where Mariku went. Never mind that outside looked like a hurricane.

The tiny shop was still open, lights from the window a welcoming beacon in the storm, but Rae wasn't in the front. So Mariku went upstairs to the sorceress' apartment slash workshop slash library.

"Hey, Rae? You up here?" No response from the kitchen or living room. The bedroom maybe? Nah, she never went in there. Must have been the work room. Ah, there she was, sitting at her desk, reading from one of the many dusty tomes scattered around the room. Mariku stifled a laugh. In jeans and a low-cut T-shirt, her tri-colored hair pulled up with a ribbon and glasses on her face, Rae looked incredibly un-threatening. "Oi, Rae!"

Funny how deceiving looks could be. Mariku ducked as the witch threw a spare book at his head. "Y'know, you're going to have a stroke if you don't calm down. Your blood pressure's probably off the charts." Another book, heavier this time. "What's got you so worked up, anyways?"

His assailant stopped, hand still raised to throw another book at the blond yami. "Although, anger management has never been your strong suit, has it?" Mariku drawled. The book whistled as it flew.

"Just because YOU don't have anything to do with your time, Mariku Ishtar, doesn't mean I don't. As a matter of fact, I have a lot of serious issues to take care of at the moment. So kindly get the fuck out of my house!"

Mariku grinned. "Oh yeah, you most definitely have serious issues." Turquoise eyes narrowed at him. "But even you, the Mistress of Short Fuses, don't get this worked up over everyday nonsense. So what's the big deal, Rae?"

The sorceress swept a hand through sapphire and silver hair, and sighed. "I really am busy, Riku. Why are you bothering me?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Why are you such a pain in the ass?"

"Because I can be."

Rae snorted. "I've no doubt about that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Alright, as much as I love to argue with you, idiot, this is kind of urgent. Now, go _away_." With that, she turned back to her books.

"But I wanna _know_!" Mariku whined. Rae ignored him. The blond stuck out his tongue and spun around, only to find himself face to face with the sorceress' assistant. "EEK!" The girl giggled as Mariku jumped. "Mikari, don't _do_ that! It's creepy."

"'Tis not." Her ears twitched. "Why the long face, Ri-chan?"

Mariku frowned. "Rae won't tell me why she's so flustered."

"Oh… well, that's easy!" Mikari leaned forward, whispered, and stepped back, watching in amusement as Mariku's face changed from frustration to astonishment.

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Um… well, this was supposed to be longer, but I want to update now, and I have to plan out the next couple scenes, so you, dear readers, get the short version. Sorry.

And although this has really nothing to do with anything, Rae's (yes, I know her name is my penname. I like that name… that's why it's HER name) hair is black with blue streaks and silver bangs. Just… because it can be. XD Actually, I should have a drawing of her on DeviantArt soon.

Anyways, that's it for now. More updates soon!

EDIT: The last sentence (which I removed) is actually from the next chapter. It wasn't supposed to be there. Sorry. D;


	6. Ghost Story

Alright, alright. I know it's been FOREVER since I updated. But I have a job, and there's been a bunch of stuff happening in the last two months or so. So don't killzor me, kay?

Anyways… I am sorry it's taken so long, but I'm back. Cookies for everybody.

By the way, I own nothing. 'Cept for Miki and Rae. Lucky me.

And a note on thoughtspeech-

/blah/ hikari to yami//blah// yami to hikari

Now, finally, on with the fic.

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"Kura." Bakura straightened up from the sofa, where he had dropped George after carrying him back to Ryou's house. The red haired twin was still unconscious, while his transparent counterpart floated an inch or two off the cushions.

"Yes, Ryou? If you're mentioning the fact that there's a guy passed out on your couch OR a ghost over said couch, I'll remind you that you're the one who told me to go find them in the first place," the yami replied irritably.

"No… I was just going to tell you that you've tracked mud all the way through the house."

Bakura looked down; indeed, there were footprints across the tile leading from the front door. "…and?"

Ryou stared, then sighed. "I'll get a mop." The hikari left the room, muttering "Honestly, I just bloody cleaned, too."

"You're a twin too?" Bakura turned. Fred's eyes were fixated on Ryou's back. "And how did he know where we were?"

"No, he's-"

The former thief was cut off as Ryou burst back into the room. "Did you say there was a GHOST over my couch?!" he demanded, shaking a finger at his darker half. "I told you to find whoever needed help, not to start dragging paranormal creatures into my house!"

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "I did as you said, yadonoushi. And the ghost was with the one you were sensing. They're twins, or were, at any rate. I did my task; do not blame me if they are not what you were expecting. But," he added, turning to Fred, "I think some explanations are in order. And as I don't feel like repeating everything to my better half…" Ryou nodded. Bakura felt a slight tug from the Ring and followed it, drifting back into his soul room.

Fred nearly fell out of the air as Bakura disappeared. Ryou let control shift to his yami and Bakura looked up, a smirk playing across his lips at the look of astonishment on the spirit's face. "Oh, don't look so alarmed. We're both still here. It's just… easier this way, considering this is the only way Ryou can sense you at all. Now," he said, sinking into an overstuffed armchair, "let's hear it."

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"So let me get this straight." Bakura leaned forward, hands on his knees. "This… Lord Whats-his-face-"

"Voldemort."

"Yes, him. He wants this Harry kid, so there's this battle in your old school, and one of the guys you're fighting makes the wall explode, and it crushes you?"

"Well… something like that." Fred was lying on his back over the coffee table, resting his head on his arms. "And everybody thinks Harry's dead, but then he comes back, spectacular battle sequence, including some wonderful attacks from my dear old mum, bless her. Then Harry up and kills Lord Moldy-Shorts, lots of cheering and all that jazz. But I'm, well…"

/But why didn't he, you know, pass on?/ Ryou inquired from his soul room. He had been watching the conversation with interest. He couldn't help feeling bad for the twins, especially George. First his ear, and then…

"Why stay in limbo, though? Why not pass on?" Bakura echoed. He had to admit, the kid intrigued him a little bit. There were very few reasons for a spirit to be so indecisive.

Fred snorted. "What, you think I didn't try? At first, I just wanted to get back to George. But I realized that I was truly dead, and there was really no way I could get back to him. So I decided I'd go to the other side and wait for him until we could be together again. But when I tried… I couldn't."

Bakura's eyebrows disappeared under his hair. "You… couldn't?!"

"Right." The ghost rolled over onto his stomach and stared down at Bakura. "Something wouldn't let me. So I hung around George… good thing, too, what with those shadowy things. But… he's wasting away over me. He thinks he can bring me back."

/Kura… / Ryou piped up. /We're not the ones who should be handling this, you know./ He hated bringing this up to his yami, but neither of the white haired teens could do anything to help the twins, except direct them to someone who could.

//What would you have me do, hikari?//Bakura snapped, even while knowing what Ryou's response would be. Being able to see spirits didn't mean he could help them; on the contrary, Bakura often regretted his ability, especially in his childhood. He wasn't a magician, so couldn't interact with ghosts, only see and hear them. Although, he knew someone who could. But...

Ryou blushed mentally. /Well…/

//No//, came the blunt response. //Actually, let me rephrase that. HELL no.//

/Oh, come on. She's really not that bad, y'know./

//Easy for you to say. You didn't sleep with her//, the yami muttered to himself. Which, in hindsight, probably hadn't been the smartest thing to do.

/Yami… how else are we going to help them?/

Bakura rolled his eyes. Gods, Ryou sounded so damnably pathetic sometimes. But as much as he hated to admit it, the boy was right.

"All right, fine," the white haired thief snarled, leaving his soul room and rematerializing next to Ryou, who blinked. "Fine. But you," he added, glancing at Fred, "are coming with me."

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"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Fred asked for the fortieth time, watching with vague fascination as the thief jumped lightly off a rooftop and landed on his feet. A good thing Fred could fly, or he'd never have been able to keep up. Bakura was damnably quick footed.

And gods only know what else, Fred thought. The white haired boys had explained about both the Millennium Items (since one possessing the other was a bit strange, even for the co-founder of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes) and Bakura's past. And although Ryou had assured Fred that Bakura was only homicidal when somebody threatened his light, Fred was glad that Ryou was the one watching over George.

"Good idea? No. But it's the best idea I can come up with. We're here, by the way," he added unnecessarily, considering he had just pushed open the door of the shop he had landed in front of.

For a few moments, Fred thought he was back home. The cheerful little store was set up remarkably like WWW, but instead of joke products, the walls were lined with books, gemstones, and all manner of odd instruments. There were candles everywhere, and on the counter there sat a large platter of fresh made brownies.

"Leave those." Bakura snapped as Fred licked his lips and started reaching for one of the chocolaty bars. "We have to go upstairs."

Fred stuck his tongue out at the thief, but floated up the stairs to a flat which resembled the shop, only a lot less organized. There were books almost literally everywhere, stacked on chairs, tables, even a few on the microwave. Half empty mugs of coffee were scattered around the room, and random articles of clothing were tossed about as if thrown by a tornado.

This is more like it, Fred grinned to himself. Creative chaos. It was what the twins had always thrived on, and whoever lived here obviously did, as well. Fred's train of thought was lost, however, as a petite fuchsia-locked girl appeared from behind a tower of what looked like encyclopedias, carrying a clothesbasket and wearing a maid's outfit.

The girl shifted the basket to one hip and waved merrily at Fred, who blinked and cocked a questioning eyebrow at Bakura, who shrugged, shoved some books out of a chair, and flopped into it. The maid waggled a finger in the thief's direction. "Bak'ra-kun, y'know you're not supposed to mess with Mistress's things. Would you like a cookie?"

Fred's grin widened at the slightly flustered look on the yami's face. The girl shrugged and turned towards the ghost. "Would YOU like a cookie?" Fred shook his head slowly.

"He can't have the cookie, Mitchan. Can't you tell?" The girl giggled and covered her right eye with her hand. Bakura frowned. "Don't do that. Who do you think you are, Kimihiro Watanuki?"

"Then I suppose I would be Yuko, hai, Bakura?" Fred turned. Standing in the doorway was a curvy young woman, a slight grin on her face, turquoise eyes laughing behind her glasses, dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail. "You can be Domeki, if you'd like. You have the attitude down perfectly. So, Bakura… why are you bringing dead people into my apartment?"

Bakura snorted and put his feet on the coffee table, knocking over several books in the process. "Ask him."

The woman turned to Fred. "And you are…?"

Fred glanced past her to Bakura, who shrugged. Some help he was. "I'm Fred Weasley… Bakura said you might be able to help me and my brother…"

"Oh he did, did he? And what seems to be the trouble, Mr. Weasley? Besides your obvious lack of a pulse."

"My… my brother's trying to find a way to bring me back, but he's wasting away over me, and I-"

"Wait," she said, holding up a hand. "Your brother?"

"Yes, my twin brother, George."

The woman's face was surprised for a few moments, then dissolved into a grin. "Oh, really? That's very interesting… tell me more."

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Okay, still not a very long chapter, but I wanted to get this posted before 4 am, and you've all waited long enough. So, there you go.

And all the Domeki/Watanuki/Yuko stuff was a reference to xxxHolic, by Clamp. Awesome manga.

Well, that's about it. R&R, desu yo!


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